|
Teenage Sex Slave -
Chapter 15
At last the session for today had ended
and yours truly had escaped detention once more, a new record. It was then that
Katrina broke the bad news, tonight was double date night. I would be expected
to take care of the needs of Fateena and her mother before tending to Heda and
Gretchen. There also was the possibility I might be handling a third party on
my first date. Suddenly my little sessions with Fateena today made a lot more
sense. She had been checking me out, and I guessed I passed inspection.
Although Fateena was delighted to get some
good teenage cock from yours truly, her mother was kind of repressed. It seems
she wanted to leave her native country in one piece, and with her assets
intact. One out of two wasn't bad. It seems she left quite a bit of skin
behind, but her assets were successfully smuggled from the country while the
authorities were busy torturing her to make her reveal their location. She
still hadn't recovered from that ordeal and was very leery of strange men,
including those from America.
According to Katrina the deal had just
been concluded an hour ago,and her mother would see some serious money as
compensation for the absence of yours truly. It wouldn't be the equal of what
Fateena's mother was paying gigolos, but now all parties stood to benefit from
this three way deal. That was when I inquired what my piece of the action
involved. Katrina gave me a glance that spoke volumes, and then she sighed and
explained the facts of life to me.
Mrs. Shalawadi, Fateena's mother, was not
without influence at the school. That explained how the teen got to be a
monitor so quickly, mom had pull with the principal. If I did well tonight she
just might put in a good word for me. After all if she could get good, young,
American cock for less money than she was paying for older men who didn't have
the same enthusiasm for fucking as teenagers did, she'd come out ahead. It made
lots of sense to me. If I fit the needs of her and her daughter I'd manage to
escape the firing squad that I'd normally be facing on the weekend.
Katrina wasn't sure that nurse Manners and
her buddy Ms. Landers, the history teacher, were going to let me off the hook
completely, but half a skin was better than none. I wish she had picked a
better metaphor to illustrate the possible outcome of my visit to the ladies
this weekend. Then I blurted out what Fateena had told me about ovulating and
the possibility that perhaps I'd knocked her up today.
Katrina smiled and said that was the
girl's hole card in case I didn't go along with the new arrangement, which
would be long term in nature. She quickly corrected herself, letting me know
that long term did not mean every night. All parties involved agreed that once
or twice a week at the most would be the bill of fare, and I'd share in the
wealth that went from party to party, since I was the asset they all were
using. The deal wasn't perfect but it was better than any other offer I'd been
given recently.
Fateena personally drove me to her home
gushing about how happy she and her mother were going to be having their own
private teen cock to service them on a regular basis. I was silent, but she took no offense. The smell emanating
from her unwashed body was overpowering and cracking the car window to get a
breath of fresh air was my only option. My new "owner" giggled and
told me that as soon as we got to her place we were going to take a shower
together before we started having sex.
"Having sex", I couldn't believe
this one. I teased her by innocently asking if her mother might also join us in
the shower. She giggled some more and informed me that by now her mother was
probably taking her third bath of the day and that would be followed by her
third douche as well. I began to wonder what this woman looked like, and her
fetish for cleanliness, then thought better of it.
Hard to believe, but once we got into the
shower, my cock quickly developed major wood. Maybe it was because Fateena had
immediately started to give me a hand job and encouraged me to bite her tits as
hard as I could. She got what she asked for and next her hand was guiding my
stiffy into that jungle of wet fur guarding her cunt. This girl had some moves,
she got credit for that. She kissed my nipples back and forth and gave my cock
a slow trip in and out of her warm and very wet cunt. The cascading water
carried away her body odor and she asked me to soap her up starting with her
tits. They might have been small but the nipples were gigantic. I like the way
they popped through my fingers when I squeezed the soap from them.
She turned her back and gave me a good
view of her plump ass. It was big, broad and meaty, the kind you dreamed of
spanking before you shoved your cock between those crimson swollen cheeks and
gave her a pounding such as she never could have imagined. I'm not sure how she
did it, but she managed to capture my steel bar of a cock between her thighs
and then she bent her knees and started doing squat thrusts on my dick. Man,
that was freaky and I had a grand time mauling her tits and pinching her butt
every chance she gave me.
For her next trick my pudgy partner turned
around, took the bar of soap from my hand and proceeded to take a big chunk out
of it and started chewing as I gawked. She even blew some bubbles out of her
mouth and I nearly freaked. She used the rest of the soap on her bush,
lathering it it up until that jungle looked like some creature foaming at the
mouth. She invited me to go down on her and see how good she tasted now. She
had me under some kind of a spell because I went to my knees, grabbed hold of
her chunky thighs and buried my face
into her soapy snatch and started chowing down like it was filet mignon. All
that time she grabbed my hair and made sure I kept my face glued to her cunt
mouth and working hard at getting her started off with a nice big orgasm that
shortly followed and nearly drowned me in pussy juice.
At long last I was about to meet Fateena's
mother, the mysterious Mrs. Shalawadi. My teenage "pimp" led me into
her mother's bedroom and there she was, sitting primly on the huge, super-sized
bed wearing only a big smile of welcome on her face. Without a word she patted
the area beside her, and I walked over, almost in a trance. Physically the mother
was almost the exact opposite of her child. Her tits were big and well shaped,
but the skin covering them was waxy looking, sort of reminding me of artificial
fruit.
She was quite slim, which only emphasized
her tits, and was as bald as a cue ball downstairs. Once again the skin tone
wasn't right, bright, too bright and like her tits almost looking fake. If that
wasn't enough, her cunt lips looked like someone had used a fine brush to paint
them on. They were so narrow and yet perfectly formed until you saw the top
portion which would normally be guarding her clit. There was no break in the
smooth thin line, it merely continued to complete the narrowed oval entrance to
her cunt.
It was hard to believe that this slim
woman, who looked to be in her thirties or perhaps older, was related to
Fateena. She must have read my mind because she beat me to the punch by
observing that her daughter, Fausi, had escaped to American while she was
captured and held incommunicado by those who had overthrown the government. A
few months before this upheaval, her husband passed away and left her his
fortune which was considerable.
It ranged from a Swiss bank account
holding many millions, through stocks and bonds issued by the foremost
corporations of the world to jewelry and art worth another small fortune. The
new regime was intent upon getting their hands on this wealth, and had set up a
special prison located away from any large city in the country to house those
individuals who were deemed noncooperative in achieving the aims of the new
order of things. Fortunately for Fausi, she and a faithful retainer named
Shabaz had taken flight to America only weeks before the coup occurred, bearing
the majority of the wealth that had been bequeathed to Fausi's mother.
When Mrs. Shalawadi entered the prison,
she weighed seventy-eight kilos. In the four months they held her captive she
endured a steady diet of terrible tortures, near starvation and brutal rapes.
On the day they released her, she had lost a little over thirty kilos. It
comprised flesh such as her nipples, parts of her tits, cunt lips and clit,
plus substantial amounts of skin flayed from her naked body during lengthy
torture sessions that sometimes drove her to the point that given an
opportunity, she would have killed herself rather than face those grinning
sadists again.
Her hearing was greatly diminished from a
fiendish torture know as the "phone
call". She would hang naked from two sets of metal rods, securely
restrained, with special ear phones taped to her ears. Not only could these
phones transmit sound, they could also deliver bursts of high voltage
electricity that raced through her brain leaving the "guest" drooling
and unable to answer the simplest questions such as "What is your name?"
By the time she was released, she suffered
from acute incontinence, unable to control either her bladder or bowels thanks
to the dozens of rapes she endured daily. Her vagina and rectum were turned
into gaping wounds that never shut and constantly oozed foul smelling liquids
such that her rapists were forced to employ condoms to protect themselves from
whatever STDs she had contracted. Even this was turned against her, as they
took to coating their condoms with pastes made from the local plant life that
made Mrs. Shalawadi think her insides had caught fire.
She'd been mated to every breed of dog in
the country and some shipped in from other places for the expressed purpose of
raping her and others like her. Photographs were often taken and posted on the
Internet from rogue servers located in the country. Many times she was knocked
senseless by the bigger animals who were drugged to make their assaults even
more frenzied and painful.
The worst things that were done to her
involved her external sex organs and breasts. Initially her torturers amused
themselves by tearing out hunks of her thick pubic hair.For a time they used
tweezers to pluck those hard to get hairs from her anal region and inner
thighs. Dull razors became the instrument of choice for a time, as they did
terrible damage to her smooth skin and left armies of ingrown hair that
tormented her for the entire time she stayed a prisoner. By far the worst thing
they did to her pubes was to soak the skin in a slow acting acid solution that
took over half a day to remove all the remaining hair and the skin beneath.
They used uppers to keep her awake the entire time and her vocal cords finally
failed, leaving her to grimace her agony as they roared with laughter.
Mrs. Shalawadi was one tough cookie and it
got to be a game of chicken between her and her torturers as to see who would
flinch first. They were becoming quite worried that she might die without
yielding her wealth and become a cause celebre that might topple their shaky
hold on the country. That led them to their ultimate weapon, the mutilation of
her sex organs and breasts. It was done without any form of anesthetic and took
nearly a week to perform competely due to the loss of blood and her weakened
condition.
They began with her breasts, injecting
them with a solution that infused itself into her tit tissue, causing them to
grow larger. It took nearly a day to make the thirty plus injections that were
required. Her swollen breasts were then encased in wet leather bags with
sharpened slivers of metal sewn inside so that any movement of those big jugs
would cut or carve away the flesh it encountered. The bags were heated with
hair dryers to make them fit like a second skin, and then the fun began. When
they peeled the bags from her casabas the next day, the skin covering her tits
was almost totally flayed, and Mrs. Shalawadi had gone into shock. For a few
days it was touch and go whether she would recover.
( To be continued - jethro
jodhpur )